A Day in the Life
by PhantomInvader
Summary: A randomized collection of oneshots chronicling the daily doings of some of the eccentric residents of Pink Palace Apartments, strewn together by a writer with nothing better to do. Now: Where You Come From; the difference between old and and new.
1. Goofball

There were certain things Coraline hated about Ashland, Oregon. She hated the dreary weather, the poison oak (you'd be surprised about how much of it there is in the Pink Palace garden alone), and the boring town.

But the thing that Coraline hated to do most had nothing to do with the town itself. Hanging out with Wybie? That she could handle. Listening to Miss Spink and Miss Forcible predict her future and argue over who was right? That was a cakewalk compared to this.

Going shopping with her mother had to be illegal. Somewhere.

Unfortunately, her family had decided to go to town that day. Charlie Jones had an appointment with the editor of both his and his wife's catalogs, and it had been said that only one of the two needed to be there. Coraline wished her mother would have gone, because at least her dad would take her somewhere fun, somewhere better than this place. The department store in Ashland had a fancy name that Coraline couldn't remember, and it smelled of perfume that made her want to sneeze her brains out. Old women were trying on clothes made for people half their age, and, what's worse, Coraline was forced to watch as she sat on the bench near the fitting rooms.

Coraline gave a loud, dramatic moan and let herself fall back so that her limp body covered the entirety on the bench.

"Coraline," Mel Jones called from inside one of the dressing rooms, "we're almost done here, can you be quiet for one second?"

And Coraline obeyed, waiting one second before moaning once more.

"_Coraline,_" Coraline had never realized how threatening her name could sound, "you're being ridiculous."

"This store is ridiculous. None of this stuff even looks like clothes, they look like," Coraline searched for the right word, "ugly pieces of fabric that wish they were clothes."

Mel let out a sigh of frustration, but didn't reply.

"When Israel was in Egypt land…" Coraline began to sing despairingly, "let my people go…"

"Coraline…"

"Oppressed so hard they could not stand…" Coraline continued as though she hadn't heard, "let my people go…"

"Coraline, that's _enough._"

But Coraline didn't believe that. If it really had been _enough, _they would have gone home by now. She sat up, getting off the bench whilst tossing a "I'm gonna go look at some stuff" over her shoulder. Maybe she could buy something. Reaching in her pocket, she scowled. She looked around, seeing if there was anything she could buy with a quarter and some chapstick.

While she was looking around, she forgot the most important rule of walking in a public place: look where you're going. Coraline was rather rudely reminded of that rule when she bumped into someone.

"Sorry--" she turned around, and her eyes widened, "_Wybie?"_

"Jonesy?" Wybie Lovat, Coraline's best friend, was looking at her, surprised. He straightened up, his common slouch ignored for only a moment.

"What are you doing here?" Coraline asked.

"Grandma needed…something, I don't know, I wasn't listening, and she doesn't trust me in the house alone."

"You mean after the noodle incident?" Coraline bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"Okay first of all, no one can prove that was my fault," Wybie said indignantly, then looked around as though to see if his grandmother was listening, "and secondly, I hate this store, _get me out of here_."

"Oh, I think you fit in just fine here." Coraline smirked.

"No, you see, it's disrupting my boyishness, _shut up,_" he added as Coraline opened her mouth to interrupt, "and I think the perfume is making me dizzy." At that, he held his head for a moment, slouching again, "yep, definitely making me dizzy."

"Then let's go, before we both die a smelly, flowery death." Coraline was only too happy to leave. She didn't tell her mother where she was going, of course. She'd probably be in that fitting room for hours anyway.

Leaving the store had not been easy, though. They'd to go through the actual perfume department.

"How many times are they going to spray us with eye burning, suffocating demon liquids before they figure out that we don't like it?" Coraline groaned as she and Wybie sat on a bus bench, trying to figure out what it was they would do next.

"I think it's part of their training," Wybie offered, "they must be immune to it now."

"Lucky them."

After a moment of silence and watching cars go by, Wybie and Coraline discovered that they were still very, very bored.

"You got any money, Wybie?" Coraline finally asked, taking her ever present 'exploring hat' and fiddling with it absently.

"I got five bucks." He replied, then added, "but I'm not buying you anything."

"What makes you think I'd want you to buy me anything?"

"You always do, Jonesy. And you owe me," Wybie began counting on his fingers, "twenty bucks."

"I do _not _owe you twenty dollars," Coraline huffed, "maybe six."

"Six, plus twenty percent interest." Wybie smirked.

"Twenty percent interest? What are you, a loan shark?" Coraline punched him the arm, as she often did.

"If I were a loan shark, you'd be sleeping with the fishes by now." Wybie grabbed the hood of his jacket and pulled it far over his head so it covered the top half of his face, "you got three days, Jonesy. Three days."

"Three days?" Coraline gasped in mock fright, then got and idea. Craning her neck so her blue hair swept forward and covered her face, she held up her hands like a zombie and moaned, "more like _seven days…"_

One look at each other was all it took to get them to laugh boisterously at how silly they were. Bad horror movie references aside, at least they were finally having fun.

"All right, maybe I could spend some money on ice cream," Wybie finally said, "after all, ice cream is one of life's necessities…"

"I knew you'd see the light, Lovat," Coraline giggled.

"But since it's my money, I choose what flavor."

"I suppose that's fair," Coraline conceded. She whacked him in the arm playfully, as she often did, "just don't get anything gross."

"You know what? Just for that, maybe I will." Wybie broke into a run across the street, and Coraline pursued him quickly.

"Ew! You little punk! Come back here!"

"You run like a girl!"

What the tow had failed to notice was that Mel Jones and Mrs. Lovat had been watching from the store entrance, and were now trying to stop laughing. Those two were such goofballs.


	2. Loving Liar

**Late Valentines thingy. It was funny in my head.**

* * *

"What kind of holiday is Valentines Day?" Coraline Jones muttered as she picked at her breakfast that morning. The date was, of course, February fourteenth, St. Valentines Day, Singles Awareness Day, or, as her cousin Leah in France called it, _La journee de l'amour. _Her family was weird.

"It's a February Holiday, taking place on the fourteenth day of the month--"

"Dad, that was a rhetorical question."

Charlie Jones chuckled, "I know, I know. But is Valentines Day really that horrible, Coraline?"

"Yes! The school is going to be covered in pink and it'll stink of flowers and people will be giggling while accidentally hitting people with their ugly pink stuffed animals!" Coraline sat back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

"And how did you obtain this information?" Mel Jones asked from the kitchen sink.

"Wybie told me."

"And do you think he's the best source of information?"

"He wouldn't lie about something this hazardous to my sanity, Mom." Coraline stood up, pushing her chair back, "and since we have to ride the bus today, he said I should be prepared to suffocate from, I dunno, carnations or something."

"Speaking of the bus, you'd better get going." Charlie said, taking up her plate. Stopping to ruffle his daughter's hair, he smiled, "I think you'll make it through the day."

"All right, but if I don't come back, I assume you'll know my fate." Coraline shuffled her feet noisily toward the door, "farewell, family--"

"Coraline, go to school." Mel interrupted what was sure to be a very melodramatic farewell.

"Fine," Coraline opened the door, "but you can _forget _about being invited to my funeral."

After she laughed, Mr. and Mrs. Jones just shook their heads and chuckled quietly.

"Your daughter is certainly odd," Mel told him.

"Oh, so when she's playing the martyr she's _my _daughter?"

* * *

"I hate the bus," Coraline said for about the fiftieth time at the bus stop, "you just _had _to crash your bike, didn't you?"

"Yes Jonesy," Wybie shook his head, "I deliberately exposed myself to serious harm just to make you ride the bus."

"I knew it."

Oregon winters were fairly cold, meaning that both Wybie and Coraline were shivering in the chilly February weather. Coraline, coming from Michigan, had a heavy enough coat to withstand it, but it certainly didn't stop her from complaining. Whether or not she had a jacket, cold weather still bothered her.

It hadn't snowed since earlier in January, but there was a thick layer of frost on the bare trees surrounding the two kids. It would've looked very beautiful, had either Coraline or Wybie been in a better mood.

"so, have _you _planned anything for Valentines Day?" Coraline suddenly asked Wybie, who jumped as the silence around them was so suddenly broken.

"Yeah right, for who?" Wybie chuckled, "Emma Lincoln?"

Coraline had to burst out laughing, and Wybie joined in. To whom it concerns, Emma Lincoln was one of the most stuck up girls in the entire town--no wait--the entire _country._ Her mother happened to be the owner of the department store, the only one in town (and the one that Coraline still could not remember the name of). They way she talked about herself and all the clothes she got for discount, one would think her boogers were made of gold.

"What are you gonna give her?" Coraline joked.

"Oh, maybe a picture of herself." Wybie chuckled.

"Perfect!"

Slowly, the stopped laughing as the school bus wheezed to their stop. Getting on, they both found a seat, sitting down and still laughing slightly.

"But seriously," Wybie finally said, "I haven't got any of that mushy stuff for anyone. Valentines Day is like, a day made up by the candy and flower industry, right?"

"Probably," Coraline sighed, "glad you haven't fallen into it's chocolate covered clutches, Lovat. Perhaps there's hope for you yet."

"Yup. That stuff is for we get older and lose our minds, like those eighth grade kids." Wybie sat back, his back against the window on the bus seat, "no mushy stuff for us today."

Coraline punched him in the arm, "you realize you're taking up the whole seat, right?"

"Really?" Wybie pushed his legs forward, effectively pushing her back until she almost fell off the seat, "I didn't notice."

Coraline stood up halfway, sitting down on Wybie's outstretched legs and throwing her backpack in his face.

"You're a very rude boy, Wybourne," She giggled as Wybie shoved her backpack back at her, "ladies should be shown respect."

"When I see a lady, I'll be sure to remember that," this earned Wybie another punch in the arm and a backpack to the face.

"Hey!" Called a gruff voice from the front, Bus Driver Ned, "you two sit in that seat properly or you're walking the rest of the way!"

Their faces reddening, Coraline and Wybie adjusted their positions on the seat, ignoring the amused and curious stares coming their way.

* * *

"_Gooood Morning Ashland Academy, these are your announcements for today. Firstly, Principal Mullins requests the Feng Shui club stop rearranging the tables in the courtyard. Secondly, I'm sure you all know what day it is. Happy Valentines Day, Falcons, and the Valentine Candygrams and Flowers that some of you purchased earlier in the week will be delivered during second period, which is, of course, now. Now, the Spanish Club meets in the library today, free taquitos to all newcomers!…."_

Coraline let her mind wander. Why did the school system have to recognize such stupid holidays? She didn't see any support for Arbor Day. Trees are important too, you know. Of course, she hadn't objected to the celebration of Halloween last semester. Any holiday that lets her come to school with a fake axe through the head is a-okay with her.

Coraline was glad Wybie had agreed to none of that stupid Valentines stuff. Not that she would have a problem if he had a Valentine, of course. She would be totally fine with that. At least, that's what she kept telling herself. For some reason the idea of Wybie liking any girl made her feel…weird. But still, people shouldn't be getting all sappy with each other.

Now she looked up at the front of the class, where one of the honor society members was handing out flowers that boys sent to their girlfriends, or girls they liked but couldn't tell them to their face.

"Coraline?" The honor society girl called, and Coraline looked up. Who would send her a flower? As she went up to get it, she thought about who it could possibly be from. She knew it couldn't have been Wybie. He'd told her explicitly that he hadn't done anything for any girl today.

When Coraline opened the card, she bit her lip to keep from giggling.

_Dear Jonesy,_

_I lied. :D_

_--Wybie_


	3. Family

**Where's the love for Bobinski around here?**

**

* * *

  
**

"Fayina."

Mr. Sergei Bobinski let the name echo in his mind, then looked around his dim apartment as though expecting some sort of reaction from the motionless room, some sort of change brought on by the mention of that name. His darling Fayina.

Looking at one of his many mice, Mr. Bobinski twisted at his moustache idly as the creature stared back at him, its beady eyes nearly expressionless as the fading lamplight gave them a soft glow. Mr. Bobinski moved his arm, suddenly startling the mouse and it scurried down to the floor to find a hiding place. If Mr. Bobinski noticed this at all, he didn't acknowledge it. He merely turned his gaze to the bare space of wall before him, and he almost swore he could see her face.

"_A mouse circus, Sergei? As in a circus using __**mice**__?" Fayina's beautiful face was twisted in a mixture of anger and disbelief, "this is what you think will make us the money?"_

"_Fayina, this will work! I have mices and music, I will train them and then you will have a house. You know the one, the one you dreamed of since we came to America! The one with yard and space, space for the baby." Sergei was pleading with his wife. Could she not see sense in this?_

"_How will you be training mices in seven months, Sergei? We have seven months only before the baby comes! There is no time for this silliness!"_

_Sergei Bobinski's face reflected his inner turmoil. Looking at his wife, her dark hair framing her fair skinned face, and her green eyes, though flashing with anger, were as beautiful as ever. She was his wife, she was carrying his baby, but she could not understand._

"_Can you not trust me to take care of you, Fayina?" _

_Fayina's expression softened, as she looked down at her stomach, "it is not just me who needs you now, Sergei. I'm sorry."_

Mr. Bobinski had tried and tried.

The mice had learned, but slowly. The months went on, and Fayina's needs were greater with each passing day. Mr. Bobinski had nothing else to give, however. America had been so new to him, and he didn't know how to do anything else. It had become clear to him in Fayina's seventh month. She had lost hope.

When she had finally left, he knew there was no way he could stop her. He had nothing else to offer if she had stayed, and she and the baby would be better off.

Sometimes he got letters. Letters written by Fayina herself, telling him how sorry she was, and how she missed him. She also told him, however, that she couldn't come back. Gradually the letters became less and less frequent, until one certain letter came in the mail. It had been a tiny note pad sheet with a small, unfamiliar scrawling from Fayina's mother.

_This is for you, Sergei._

_Two_ copies of _two _birth certificates. One for a girl, Yeva, and one for a boy, Segei Jr..

From that point on, Mr. Bobinski nurtured the hope that he would see them both one day. He worked harder to make his mouse circus worth something, going so far as to keep it secret from everyone who lived in that apartment with him, and he continued to do so when he moved into the Pink Palace. One day he would make money, and Fayina and his children would be able to come back to him. It wouldn't be long.

---

But it had been long. Bobinski had been working away for a very long time. Almost ten years now, and it was still not enough. Such training he had given those mice! But now, it had seemed that they stopped learning. Mr. Bobinski had pursued his dream, but had lost sight of another. He would never know the joys of raising, or spending time with his own family.

A knock at the door snapped Mr. Bobinski back into the present. Looking around, he took in the sight of his same old apartment, the sound of scuffling mice, and the smell of the pot on the stove that he had forgotten about in his reminiscing. He'd take care of that later.

Sluggishly dragging his tired body towards the door, he opened it to find those children he had seen so many times before.

"Hey Mr B.," Coraline Jones said cheerfully, "how's the mouse circus comin'?"

"Eh?" Mr. Bobinski forced on a smile, "it goes well. Mice tell me they are almost ready!"

"Cool," Coraline said, "my dad wanted me to tell you that we're gonna have another garden party on Friday. You know, because it's almost Spring."

"Yeah, and this one's gonna be awesome, so long as Cat doesn't come and aggravate Miss Spink and Miss Forcible's Scotties again." Wybie Lovat chimed in. He cast a sideways glance at Coraline.

"I hope you aren't implying that it was _my _fault that Cat decided to tease the things." Coraline glared at him.

"I didn't say anything."

"Well there's a first."

"Ahem," Mr. Bobinski cleared his throat, and the two kids turned away from each other to look at him sheepishly. "Tell your father I will be at this party. I bring beats for strong muscles, too."

"Uh…okay." They both nodded and, with one exchanged glance, they began to sprint down the stairs leading away from his home. He stepped out of his house and called after them.

"Don't run, you little monkeys! Cracked heads are messy and expensive to fix!"

They both stopped and turned around, "sorry!"

Mr. bobbins shook his head and smiled a genuine smile. Maybe his real family was far away, but maybe the one he had here was enough for now.


	4. Where You Come From

**One shot but not as long and corny. It's been awhile since I've written Coraline fanfiction.**

**--Phanny**

**

* * *

**Coraline wasn't going to lie; she'd always missed Michigan, that was where her old friends, her old school, and her old life remained, never to return. Whenever she would go on vacation, she would some semi-friendly people. They always asked where she was from. She'd always say "Michigan", even though she'd lived in Ashland, Oregon for nearly a year. She had new friends there, too. Wybie had become her best friend, and one of her only ones (it was hard for Coraline to make friends; she didn't really like the kids at her school).

Coraline missed Pontiac, but she always tried not to think of it. She missed the snow, she missed her friends, she missed everything. She didn't like Ashland quite as much. It rained a lot, her house was old and moldy.

And she'd almost been killed in an alternate universe by a demonic spider-lady seamstress. And the house smelled funny, and the windows leaked.

And whenever someone asked her where she was from, she always said "Michigan".

But after Coraline got used to the place, she started to notice the little things. The Pink Palace had some sort of comforting charm to it now (except for that one room. You know, the one with the demonic spider-lady seamstress who made nice clothes), and her neighbors were nice. Crazy, but nice. Wybie was a good friend, who was also crazy, but in a good way. She loved slug hunting with him--and frog hunting, and snail hunting, and fishing for minnows to feed to Cat. She didn't much care for the snakes, though.

Cat was another good thing, he'd helped her out a lot. Sometimes he was cranky, and he brought her dead things that Wybie also got his fair share of as well. But it was an attempt to be nice, as he always looked a little confused when Coraline would shout when she found a dead bird on her window sill.

She still liked tending to the garden with her mother and father, even though Wybie would sometimes drove his bike over the roses. She especially liked punching him in the arm.

Coraline began to notice that some of the things around her weren't so bad. She began to appreciate the quiet.

So whenever someone asked her where she was from, she would always say "Oregon".


End file.
